Murder to the Max: Witches of Keyhole Lake Mysteries

by Tegan Maher

  Justin was standing behind her, watching with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

  "Justin, how much stuff do you have?" I asked without breaking eye contact with her.

  "A duffel bag full is all."

  "Get it. And leave behind the rags she calls clothes. Get what's important to you personally. You'll not be coming back here."

  "Boy, you know what's good for you, you'll stay right where you're at," she growled.

  He flinched but looked at me. I gave him one sharp nod and motioned with my head. "Go on now, before your loving caregiver here does me the pleasure of taking the first swing."

  Cheri Lynn moved toward him. He'd either seen a ghost before, or was so worried about what else was going on that a ghost wasn't even a blip on his radar. "C'mon, honey," she said. "Let's get your stuff. Noelle's got this handled, and you ain't got nothin' to worry about from here on out." She looked back at me, eyes shining with pride.

  "You can't do this," Bonebag sneered, indignant. "He's my charge. That money's mine, fair and square. I'll call the law and say you kidnapped him."

  For the second time that day, I got to break out my witchy smile, and she took an involuntary step back.

  "I'm gonna speak slow and use little words because you don't seem to be the sharpest crayon in the box," I said. "He's. Coming. With. Me. Now, have a seat, buttercup, and we'll be out of your hair in two shakes."

  She stepped back into my bubble, pulling herself up like an undernourished puffer fish. I glanced over her shoulder and saw an old wingback chair, and motioned it forward. It hit her in the back of her legs hard enough to knock her backward into it.

  "You can't do this!" she said, struggling to gain purchase.

  "Zip it," I said and flicked my wrist, pushing the chair back where it came from with her still in it. Cheri Lynn and Justin came back down the stairs, him with a ragged, half-full duffel bag in his hand.

  Foster-Mommy Dearest started to get up but I pushed her back down and locked her in place, then motioned Justin toward the door. She spat a string of curses, casting aspersions upon my parents. I spun back around and looked at her, thinking. I wanted to cover her in ants, but figured I’d regret that once I cooled down.

  Instead, I made the inside of the house black as pitch and gave her a case of the mental creepy crawlies. It was the worst thing I could think of without actually using the ants, but much less than what she deserved for treating kids like a check.

  Cheri Lynn looked at her like she smelled something bad, then nodded at me. "I’m proud of you, sugar. You’re nicer than I would have been."

  She started flinging invectives, but I just closed the door behind us. The curses change to howls and shrieks as we walked down the sidewalk.

  "That was rad!" he said as I guided him to my car. I hadn’t told either of them about the creepy-crawlies, but it was pretty obvious that something weird was going on with her. Then he looked worried. “You didn’t actually hurt her did you?”

  “No,” I said, then explained.

  “Oh. Then awesome!”

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said as we climbed in the truck. "Now gimme my wallet."

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  As soon as I got in the truck, I called Hunter to explain the situation. When he didn't answer, I left a voicemail. I'd only locked Miss Mary Sunshine down and distracted her with the willies long enough for us to get out of there without being shot at, so I was pretty sure he was about five minutes away from getting an extremely unpleasant phone call from her. After all, according to Justin, I'd just cut her income in half.

  Sucks to be her, which was true, regardless. If I had my way—and I fully intended to—she'd lose the other half, too.

  We drove for a few minutes in silence, mostly just letting the adrenaline ebb. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He didn't know I was looking, and my heart broke a little that such a young kid could look so old. I determined right then to fix it, as much as I could, anyway.

  "Now what are we going to do with you?" I asked.

  He shrugged. "I don't know. I do okay on my own."

  I rolled my eyes, a tendency he seemed to bring out in me almost as much as Shelby used to. "Yeah, sure you do. I'll find you a business suit. You can just go rent yourself an apartment, throw some books on the seat of your new truck so you can see over the wheel, and haul yourself to the office every day. Maybe have a beer or two with the boys on the way home."

  Scowling, he crossed his arms and stared out the window. "You ain't gotta be snooty about it."

  He reminded me of a little banty rooster sitting over there with his feathers all ruffled, trying to look tough. Having dealt with them before, I knew to tread carefully. The kid was staying at the farm that night, but unless I was wrong, it needed to be his idea.

  We were just about to the farm when Addy popped in looking all mother-henny. Great. Two outraged chickens in my truck.

  "Where you been girl? Rae's been callin' your phone for twenty minutes. Last we heard, you was headin' to the East Side to get your wallet."

  I glanced down at my phone. Sure enough, four missed calls.

  "My ringer must be—"

  "Who do we have here?" Addy'd noticed Justin as soon as she realized I was okay. He was looking at her like she was a three-headed goat sitting in Sunday school.

  I coughed to cover a laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation.

  "That would be Justin. The sticky-fingered heathen who stole my wallet."

  Addy drew her eyebrows down and glared at him. "You takin' him to Hunter so he can throw him in the hoosegow? And did you tan his hide when you caught him? Only thing worse than one thief is two of 'em."

  Justin had pulled his belligerent look back into place and was glowering at her, just as much as she was him. I was starting to think it was just a mask rather than an attitude, though.

  "If you'd give me two seconds, I was just about to find out how he ended up in the situation he's in." I gave her a brief rundown of what had happened and by the time I was finished, she was looking at him like he was a wounded baby duck rather than a hardened, ten-year-old criminal.

  "Did you give the piece of trash what-for?" she asked, outraged. "Maybe I should go back there myself."

  Justin grinned and turned in his seat. "You shoulda seen her, ma'am; it was awesome! She made a chair slide across the room, and—" he stopped mid-sentence, chewing on his lip and looking doubtful.

  "Well, go on," Addy said. "What else did she do?"

  He'd shrunk back against the door, looking back and forth between the two of us.

  "What?" Addy and I asked at the same time.

  He stared at us, his eyes round as an owl. "I stole a real live witch's wallet. Then I saw you do magic. Are you gonna turn ..."

  The pause extended as his face became pale as a sheet.

  "Gonna turn what, boy? Spit it out!" Addy barked.

  I realized what he was thinking and giggled. I couldn't help it.

  "No, for the love of Pete, we're not going to turn you into a toad." I narrowed my eyes at him. “Unless you steal from me again. Then I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

  Addy looked at me like I was a donut shy of a dozen because, unlike the witch that Max made mad, we don’t turn people into anything. Her eyes twinkled with mischief and she poked at him, her translucent finger slipping a little bit into his arm. He rubbed the spot while she looked him up and down.

  "He does look pretty tender though. Might make a nice soup."

  I choked back a snort and he turned face-forward in his seat and crossed his arms, scowling when he realized she was pulling his leg.

  "There's no reason to poke fun at me. How am I 'sposed to know?"

  "Say," he said, turning sideways again after a few moments. "Is the Flash real? What about meta-humans?"

  "Meta-what?" Addy asked, befuddled.

  I gave her a quick run-down of the world of TV superheroes and she drew her brows down and huffed. "Well tha
t's just ridiculous. Course there's no such thing as somebody who can walk through walls or get from one place to another in an instant."

  I arched a brow at her. "Really? You don't know a single person who can do that?"

  Justin turned a cynical eye to her, too. "Seems to me, you just popped from one place to another in an instant."

  She flapped her hand at him. "Pht. Yeah, but I'm a ghost. That's different." After a few seconds, she said, "I reckon I can see your point though."

  We spent the rest of the ride home answering endless questions. He was disappointed that most of the stereotypes about witches were false. Or at least not practiced anymore.

  "So you don't use eye of newt to make potions, or fly around on brooms, or dance naked under the full moon on Halloween?"

  Addy snorted. "Sugar, I'm an ole lady. I ain’t dancin' nekkid under a full moon, or any moon for that matter. It wouldn't be seemly and I'd probably hurt myself or someone else, or at least I woulda when I was living."

  He giggled and I just shook my head. Her idea of seemly was often vastly different than anybody else's. Aside from the basics, she kinda made up her own rules of propriety as she went along. I let it slide, though there were several occasions involving moonshine I could have mentioned had the company been of age.

  "As far as eye of newt, I'm not even sure what a newt is," I said, moving the conversation along, "so maybe we use them, but it sounds gross. Ask Rae. She's a mixologist and herbalist, so potions are more her thing." I thought about all the concoctions she made that I blindly consumed, and shuddered. "And if she uses real eyeballs of anything, just keep it to yourself; I don't wanna know."

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Addy popped back out, her evil snickering fading away a few seconds later. I had a feeling what’s-her-face’s day was about to get even worse. She may not have magic anymore, but Addy could still be wicked when she wanted to be.

  You've seen the movies where the house tells people to leave, but then they're stupid and stay anyway? The idea for those movies probably came from a real event where a cranky ghost didn’t want anybody on his turf.

  Whispery voices in an empty house are a great way to freak somebody out, and that's likely what Addy was doing right about then.

  When we pulled onto the road leading to the house, Justin's eyes got wide when he saw the mares in their pasture.

  "Whoa! You're a witch and you have horses? No way! Can I ride 'em?"

  They all turned to face the direction of the barn, ears pricked, at the same time. In a split second, they took off that way, hell bent for leather.

  "What spooked them?"

  I quirked up one side of my mouth. "The fear of starving to death." We rounded the final curve to the house and I pointed to Shelby and Cody standing at the gate, calling them for supper.

  Understanding crossed his face and he grinned. "Can't say I blame them."

  Smoke was billowing from the grill and Hunter was waving it away with the spatula. The smell of charcoal and cooking meat wafted through the window and his stomach growled. Mine followed suit. There was just something about that smell that made you hungry no matter when you'd eaten last.

  I pulled to a stop beside Hunter's truck, and Justin saw the blue bubble sitting on his dash. The color drained from his face and he shot me an accusing glare.

  I held out my hand. "It's not what you’re thinking. Hunter's my—"

  "Hey, beautiful," the cop in question said through my window as he opened my door for me. He smiled at Justin, who was looking at him suspiciously. "And you must by Justin Poling, recently abducted by this wonderful troublemaker"—he gestured toward me—"from one Patricia Dawson. Right?"

  Justin narrowed his eyes and surprised me by coming to my defense even though it was obvious he was scared. "Maybe. Ms. Noelle didn't do anything wrong and if anybody says she did, they're lyin'. There wasn't no abduction."

  Hunter held out his hand and introduced himself. "I know she didn't do anything wrong. Your foster mother called. Nice lady. She has a ... colorful vocabulary. She made at least four anatomically impossible suggestions," he said, then turned serious. "I promise you never have to go back there again."

  Justin eyed his hand, which Hunter was still holding out. He seemed to come to a decision and placed his small hand in Hunter's large one, making eye contact. "Thank you."

  The wind shifted and lightened the mood with the smell of char-grilled hamburger. I hip-checked Hunter. "You better not be standing here jawin' while my supper's burning."

  "I'd never dare. I just put them on."

  The front screen door swung open and Rae came out carrying two glasses of wine, a can of Coke, and a beer with condensation dripping off the bottle. She handed me the wine, Hunter the beer, and Justin the Coke. "Looks like it's a good thing I made extra macaroni salad and deviled eggs," she said, winking at our latest addition.

  Addy popped back in, humming out of tune, and Justin jumped. "You'll get used to it," I told him, then realized that I was already thinking of him as a permanent fixture when, in reality, I had no idea what was going to happen to him.

  "Yes, ma'am." He was looking at his feet, toeing a rock with his beat-up sneakers.

  "What's up kiddo?" I asked. Knowing what he’d been through softened my stance toward his behavior.

  He looked up at Hunter and drew a shaky breath. "I need to tell you something."

  Hunter's face softened. "I already know about the wallets. It wasn't right, but we don't have to talk about it right now. You're not in any trouble; at least none that should have you looking so worried."

  "But—"

  "But nothing," I said. "It'll keep until after we've eaten, at least."

  He was glancing at the barn, almost vibrating with excitement now that he knew he wasn't in trouble. "Go on," I told him, and that was all it took. He was gone.

  "What did you do to her?" I asked Addy as soon as he was out of earshot.

  My dear, innocent aunt batted her eyes. "Why whatever do you mean, sugar pie? Do to whom?"

  Hunter coughed into his hands and Rae snorted. The only time Addy used whom was when she was being smarmy.

  "C'mon already. I wanna know," Rae said. "I feel like I missed the whole thing. Cheri Lynn popped in here a couple of minutes ago to let us know what the hold-up was with Noelle—thanks for answering your phone, by the way," she scowled at me. "I only thought you were dead or something."

  "I already got onto her about that." Addy waved Rae's admonition aside, then changed topics as we worked our way around the porch to the grill area.

  "Man, that woman is a piece of work," she said. "I popped in just as she was talking to Hunter, and let me tell you—a sailor blush would have blushed with shame. So, I whispered in her ear that the Good Lord didn't like to hear such language. Then I described the special spot in Hell that's reserved for people who abuse kids." She looked proud as a peacock as she finished up.

  "Last I saw, she was in her bedroom with a bottle of cheap wine, locking the door and turnin' the TV up. That was after I told her to go right then and spend that check buyin' that young'un some clothes."

  "Fortunately, that check isn't going to be an issue anymore," Hunter said. "I contacted Keyhole County DHS and made the caseworker aware of the situation. The only problem is it's going to take at least a week to find a new home. Foster parents here have been taking in the overflow from other counties."

  Addy piped up. "Well, that does it, then. He'll stay here."

  I agreed. No way was I turning away a kid who had nowhere to go.

  Hunter took off his hat and scratched his head, then put the hat back on again. "About that. I kind of figured you'd feel that way, so I went out on a limb and vouched for your fitness to serve as a temporary foster parent. Normally, it wouldn't fly, but what else were they going to do?"

  I heaved a sigh of relief knowing that I wasn't going to have to break any laws, because there was no way that kid was going back to that hellhole as long as I dre
w breath.

  I sat my wineglass on the railing and looked over Hunter's shoulder at the meat. "Okay, now that we settled that, what's going on with Max's case?"

  I'd barely uttered the words when there was a pop behind me. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

  "Bout time you got back around to me," Mr. Personality grumbled, though there was no real conviction in it. “Did you get that young’un straightened out?”

  I arched a brow, but ignored his tone.

  "I did. How'd things go with your daughter?" I asked, picking up a piece of cheese and a cracker from a tray sitting on the table.

  His ran a hand over his face and looked away.

  "What? Did it go badly?"

  "No," he said. "Just the opposite. We cleared the air and she's considering movin' back here to help her mama. It was her idea to run off to Vegas to get married, not his like I thought. He tried to talk her out of it. I was hateful to her and now it's too late. And I ended my life bein' in the doghouse with poor Emily, too."

  "Hush that talk," Addy said. "You apologized and told her what an old geezer you were, right?"

  He nodded, "Yeah, but—"

  "But nothin'. I haven't figured out this whole ghost thing yet. I don't know why some people get to stay and others don't. There ain't no rhyme nor reason to it, least that I can see. But you got a chance to make it right with her. Better late than never."

  "You're right, I reckon."

  "I know I'm right," she said, hovering over Hunter. "I'm always right. Boy, you better pull them ones on the left off. They're gonna burn."

  Hunter scowled and swatted at her with the spatula, which passed right through her, but then reached for the plate and did as she said.

  Max barked out a laugh. "Way to go Numbnuts. A woman had to tell you how to grill. A dead woman, at that." He looked at Addy. "I see why you chose to stay. Ain't no way this lot's fit to be left on their own."